


Mat Time

by pippen2112



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Felix Being a Dick, Flirting, RvB Rare Pair Week, Sexual References, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: Felix had walked past Freelancer Martial Arts every day on his way to his shitty, brainless job.  Normally, he would’ve kept on walking without giving the dojo a second thought, but after Locus kicked him to the curb, he needed a win.  Something nearby and cheap and guaranteed to re-inflate his ego.So when he saw a sign in the window offering a complimentary intro to self-defense class on Tuesday night, he’d snapped at the opportunity.  Sure, it was stuff he’d learned when he was a kid, but just half-assing his way through the class exercises had his muscles singing to life.  Despite years of inconstant practice and one too many beers most nights, his body remembered.But what he’d really been looking forward to was a little sparring after the lesson wrapped up.  A little mat time to remind himself that even if his life was going nowhere, he was still better than some folks at something.Alternative Title: Carolina Definitely Plays with Her Food





	Mat Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rare Pair Week 2018
> 
> I owe this fic entirely to Arirashkae who provided the perfect ending, which in turn helped the rest of the fic fall into place.

Felix had walked past Freelancer Martial Arts every day on his way to his shitty, brainless job. Normally, he would’ve kept on walking without giving the dojo a second thought, but after Locus kicked him to the curb—fucker—and with his boss breathing down his neck about five bucks missing from the till at the end of his closing shift last week, he needed a win. Something nearby and cheap and guaranteed to re-inflate his ego.

Normally he’d go for a night with the drunkest girl at the bar, but since picking up chicks required (a) money and means to get to the nearest bar and home again and (b) y’know, effort, he’d dismissed the idea and prepared to spend another weekend toiling in his apartment, wasting the hours until his couch decided to eat him.

So when he saw a sign in the window offering a complimentary intro to self-defense class on Tuesday night, he’d snapped at the opportunity. Sure, it was stuff he’d learned when he was a kid, but just half-assing his way through the class exercises had his muscles singing to life. Despite years of inconstant practice and one too many beers most nights, his body remembered.

But what he’d really been looking forward to was a little sparring after the lesson wrapped up. A little mat time to remind himself that even if his life was going nowhere, he was still better than some folks at something. 

#

He stretches out, waiting for the pair of newbies currently squabbling to wrap it up so he could have his turn when a firm, calloused hand grabs him by the bicep. He turns, his brow arching when he finds the instructor watching him. She’s a little older up close than he’d expected from seeing her demonstrations. Lines crease her mouth from habitual frowning, and gray grows in at the roots of her bold red hair. And to top it all off, she’s got a wicked scar across her right cheek. 

Felix doubts dropping to his knees and proposing something indecent while he’s down there will go over well, so he bites back the impulse. He does look between her hand around his arm and her face before putting on his best innocent face. “You need something, sensei?”

Her nose wrinkles up at the term, but it’s gone so quickly, he thinks he might have imagined it. “Your form is good,” she says calmly. “Have you trained before?”

His blood thrums a little louder in his ears, but he breathes through it. “I took a class or two,”—or twenty—“when I was a kid. But it’s been years.” 

Technically, none of it’s a lie, but he relishes the deception just the same. The instructor’s mouth tightens ever so slightly. “Interested in seeing how much you remember?” Her bright green eyes narrow around him. Closing him in and isolating him from his few escape options. It’s a heady feeling, all that attention focused in on him. 

Before he can think better of it, he shifts his weight ever so slightly toward her and smirks. “Maybe. If you tell me your name first.”

For a split second, the instructor stares. Her brow ticks upward, and she folds her arms over her chest. If Felix’s eyes flick down to the swell of her breasts under her tank top, well, he’s only human. “I’ll tell you what,” she says, each word smooth and even. “If you can pin me, I’ll let you buy me a drink.”

Felix doesn’t beam, but his eyes bulge ever so slightly, and his grin tugs wide across his cheeks. “Shit, yeah, I’ll take those odds.”

She smirks.

#

Felix doesn’t yelp when his back hits the mat. He absolutely does not. He’s been through enough enough mixed martial arts classes to know how to take a hit. How to recover from a hard landing. Normally he wouldn’t waste a second thought before kicking himself back to his feet and knocking this mother fucker out.

If only he could, y’know, actually land a hit.

The instructor towers over him, faint beads of sweat glimmering across her brow. “So that’s, what, three pins to none?” 

He grimaces. Smug. He hates smug. Reminds him of all the times Locus used to brag about his stupid promotions or salary, just to rub Felix’s nose in it. Fuck, he did not come here to be reminded of his shitty little existence. 

Pushing himself up to his hands and knees as he tries to catch his breath, he looks up at her. “Best four outta seven.”

“Last one,” she says sternly. “Gotta give the others a chance to spar.”

Felix lets his head hang between his arms. Right. They aren’t even alone right now. There’s at least two dozen people crowding around the sparring ring, watching him get his ass handed to him. A flare of heat ripples through his gut, but he swallows hard to extinguish it. 

Without a word, he pushes himself to his feet and takes his stance. The instructor falls into position across the circle from him, mischief glinting in her eyes. He curses the rebellious part of his brain that finds it hot.

He tries to be patient, to play it smart, but before he knows it, she’s got him on his knees, an arm around his throat and very effectively cutting off his air. But its not a full pin, so Felix pries at her grip and squirms, struggling between throwing her off and conserving his oxygen.

And then, she leans down and whispers in his ear. “You tapping out on me already?”

“Not on your life,” he grits out, searching for a pressure point and coming up empty.

“What’s the matter? Not having fun fighting someone who can hold their own?”

Felix’s heart skips a beat, and his mouth goes dry. She pays him no mind as she goes on, “You know, I’ve seen plenty of guys like you wander into the beginners classes. Guys who know just enough to push around the inexperienced students to make themselves feel better. You’re transparent.”

She kicks out his knees and follows him down to the mat, pinning him by the back of the neck. It knocks the wind out of him and leaves him light headed, or maybe that’s just her thighs squeezing his sides, threatening to break him in two. He tries throwing an elbow, but that only ends with her planted on his shoulders, her knees holding down his arms. And yeah, his blood rushing south is definitely not helping proceedings.

“How’d you know?” Felix asks, out of breath and on the edge of baring his neck.

Chuckling, she bends so low her lips tease the tip of his ear. “I introduced myself at the beginning of class. Anyone paying attention would’ve known.”

Fuck, can’t argue with that logic. Pressing his forehead to the mat, he taps out.

The instructor climbs off him without so much as a ‘told you so.’ When he finally gathers his shame and rolls over and onto his feet, she’s pulling another pair of students into the ring, her gaze cutting him to pieces.

He sits at the back of the room until the instructor dismisses the class at the end of the hour. As the other students trickle out, he watches the instructor hauling away the practice mats and clearing up the dojo. Felix is fairly certain he should walk out the door and never come back, but something about the instructor has wormed its way under his skin, and he’s less than certain he wants to root it out. 

Instead of putting on his shoes and shrugging on his coat, Felix grabs the nearest mat and starts dragging it back to the pile. The instructor throws him a wary look. “Helping clean up won’t change my opinion.”

He snorts under his breath. “Can you blame a guy for trying?”

“A guy, maybe.” She tosses the mat on to the stack. “You, absolutely.”

Felix barely contains his groan. God, he’s just a glutton for punishment, but he can’t stop. “How about I buy you a drink to make it up to you?”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you ever give up?”

“Nope.” 

“Didn’t think so.” The instructor crosses her arms and gives him a long once over. Before he has time to put his good side forward, a slow smile spreads across her face. “Actually, I think I have a better idea.”

Felix’s stomach knots up. “Why do I get the feeling I’m gonna regret this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, but the glee in her eyes shines bright.

#

It’s dark out by the time the women’s self defense class wraps the following Monday. Well, he says “class” but by the end it had turned into “everyone take turns practicing take downs on Felix.” His everything is sore from being treated like a glorified sparring dummy, but every time frustration flares in his chest, he caught the instructor—whose name he had learned was Carolina—pinning him with her sharp green eyes. He mutters a curse under his breath, thanks God for whoever invented sports cups, and stands back up for the next newbie to beat the shit out of him. 

As soon as Carolina releases them for the evening, Felix collapses onto the mats, every inch of him in agony. Truth be told, he’d very much like to reach down and cup his jewel until they stop throbbing, but that probably wouldn’t go over too well. And it might spell trouble if his dick decides it wants to join the party. Felix is a lot of things, but he’d like to keep sex offender off that list, please and thank you. So he just lays in a heap, stifling his groans as the ladies file out. 

He hears the door swing closed and the lock turn before Carolina strides across the mats. He pries his eyes open to look up at her, wisps of hair sticking out around her like a bright red halo, but unlike their previous encounters, she’s grinning. Genuinely grinning. “Comfortable down there?”

Wincing, Felix pushes himself up to sit, even if the movement puts a whole new kind of strain on his groin. “You owe me so many drinks.” He pauses to cup himself. Like cradling a piece of plastic is gonna give his balls any semblance of relief. 

Carolina laughs. “Oh, how about I kiss it better instead?”

There’s so much sarcasm woven through her voice, but Felix’s stupid dick can’t help twitching to life, shifting against his inner forearms and sending a shiver down his spine. He huffs. “Fine, we’re even.”

“Good.” She extends her hand. He takes it and lets her help him to his feet, but as soon as he’s upright, she spins him around and shoves him into the nearest wall, holding him there with her body. Her breasts drag along his back as she goes onto her tiptoes and bites the shell of his ear. “Looks like you can learn.”

And that time, yeah, Felix absolutely moans. But she chuckles against his neck and bites hard. 

Yeah. It’s official. He’s a total fucking goner.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and con-crit welcome! Come scream with me on Tumblr (birdsbeesandlemonadetrees.tumblr.com)


End file.
